A Lytell Geste
by catherib
Summary: Amanda gets Methos to confess as to the most embarrassing period of a very long life.


A Lytell Geste  
  
(Yes, that's spelled correctly. Old English is a wonderful thing.)  
  
Dedicated to Mrs. Waggonner, Dragon Lady of AP World History, for 99% of my knowledge of anything historical; to Lizbet, who fills in the cracks with a ball-peen hammer; and to Perri, who could squeeze grammar mistakes out of solid steel. For these things and much more, the author is forever grateful.  
  
***  
  
As any Watcher might tell you, not every moment in an immortal's life is noteworthy. Quite the contrary... being able to occupy oneself for hours on end with nothing but a small rock and a ball of string is still a requirement for all field agents. But this is the electronic age, after all, and if they weren't a secret society, the International Watcher Network would be able to bring considerable pressure upon the world to make Doom II an Olympic event.  
  
Bad enough for the Watchers, how much worse for the immortals? One can only write their memoirs every so often, you know. And there have been tales in immortal circles for centuries of those institutionalized... too much chess, you see. One too many games, and they just - crack. Start believing they're pieces... knights, horsemen or some such. Very sad.  
  
At any rate, it is an unfortunate fact of life that even immortals can get staggeringly bored some days.  
  
This is one of those days.  
  
***  
  
One  
  
"Amanda, your turn." The lights in the dojo were mostly off, and darkness dampened the size of the room. They'd moved the coffee table to one side, leaving a space between two overstuffed armchairs. Amanda and Duncan were sitting on the floor, using them as backrests, while Methos sat to one side. A lamp on one endtable was the only thing lighting their loose circle, and a truly enormous tub of popcorn sat in the center spot.  
  
"Dare," Amanda replied to Duncan sweetly, just like the last turn, and the turn before that, and the turn before that...  
  
This was getting ridiculous, and more importantly, boring. Duncan crossed his arms in front of his chest with finality. "Amanda, to play the game right, you have to pick Truth sometimes. Otherwise, there's no fun. You're as bad as him." He swatted Methos on the shoulder just as the world's oldest man was shoveling a huge handful of popcorn into his mouth, causing the stuff to explode over his face and the front of his sweater.  
  
"Hey! Wa'd I do?" he complained around a full mouth, brushing off the extra onto Duncan's probably expensive carpet.  
  
Duncan was himself wondering why on earth he ever thought Truth or Dare with these two would be a good idea in the first place. "You, you sit there and pick Truth every single time, and Amanda just picks Dare."  
  
Methos spent a moment chewing, a moment in which he gifted Duncan with a look that spoke several volumes expanding the true nature of the word "duh". He swallowed. "Yeah, and between us, we're playing Truth or Dare. What's the problem?"  
  
"Really, Duncan. Don't be such a spoilsport. You picked the game; we're playing by the rules, fair and square." Amanda reached out to pick a couple of kernels out of their dinner-sized bowl and pop them delicately into her mouth one by one.  
  
"But Methos never tells the truth, and nothing is a real dare to you!" Duncan cried in exasperation. Methos and Amanda looked at each other for a moment, then turned in unison to Duncan and blinked at him with identical 'gosh-golly, whatever could he mean?' expressions. Duncan rubbed his eyes. "Never mind."  
  
"Good!" Amanda smiled brightly. "Now, you were about to give me a dare."  
  
"A dare, right." Duncan couldn't think of a single thing that would even make Amanda hesitate. Fortunately, he didn't have to. Because Methos was getting bored too, and decided to liven things up a bit. He gestured Duncan over, and started whispering in his ear.  
  
Amanda immediately sounded the alarm. "Hey, no ganging up on me! Methos...!"  
  
"Too late." Duncan was just too smug. "I dare you to tell the truth: what was the worst thing you ever did for money?"  
  
Amanda's jaw dropped. "I beg your pardon?" Her mouth hung open, closed with a snap, opened for a tart response, and shut again before a word got past her lips. Finally, she thought for a moment, picking lightly at the carpet with her nails.  
  
She'd torn a few tufts out before finally admitting, "I made a prince fall in love with me." Both men watched her disapprovingly, but for completely different reasons. One expression said, 'I can't believe you'd stoop so low,' while the other seemed to mutter, 'You can do better than that'.  
  
"Look, I was desperate! I was less than a week from being out on the street. And like an idiot," she snarled at herself uncharacteristically, "I'd already sold all my gear. I couldn't break into a doghouse. Last time I ever pulled that, believe me."  
  
They were still staring at her. "A prince," Methos said flatly, as if prompting for an explanation.  
  
"Yeah. Really sweet guy, actually..." More tufts of carpet got yanked out. "Look, you wanted to know the worst, now you know. Can we move on?" Without waiting for an answer, Amanda informed them that "It's Methos' turn," even though he'd just gone, and it was Duncan's turn to question him, anyway.  
  
Methos' only response was an amused look. "Somehow I doubt that's in the rules." Amanda smiled easily. "You think so? Duncan, do you think I'm playing unfairly?" she asked in a tone that told him exactly what his answer was, if he knew what was good for him.  
  
"Oh, couldn't be fairer." Now, this was much better. Methos and Amanda together at Duncan's throat could make his life a complete nightmare, he knew from bitter experience. Methos and Amanda at each other's throat... well, where did that popcorn go again? Duncan lounged further against his chair and waited for the show.  
  
Methos glared at Duncan, but he was mostly just irked at losing the upper hand so easily. Duncan merely turned Methos' previous innocent expression back at him.  
  
"Good!" Amanda turned back to Methos with an expectant look.  
  
He shrugged eloquently. "Truth."  
  
Amanda's smile, to coin a phrase, grew teeth. "Tell me the most embarrassing thing you've ever done."  
  
Methos snorted a laugh. "Sorry. I'm not really that kind of guy. Call it a lifestyle."  
  
Amanda's voice grew silky-smooth. "Come on, Methos. Surely you can think of something."  
  
Methos put on his best honest face. "I can't think of anything."  
  
It didn't get him off the hook. Amanda's voice didn't change, and her smile grew a few more teeth. "Try."  
  
She was obviously fishing for something... Methos scanned back. And froze solid. "You wouldn't," he told her flatly.  
  
Gotcha! And she looked it, too. "I just did."  
  
Methos was suddenly suffering a bad case of drive-by astonishment. "You promised!"  
  
"I lied."  
  
"Would someone like to share with the rest of the class?" Because, as much fun as it was watching them bicker, Duncan had decided this would be a lot more fun if he knew what was going on. Amanda opened her mouth, then closed it at Methos' hot glare. She gestured for him to begin.  
  
He sighed expansively before speaking. "A long time ago, I was a thief."  
  
"Not just any thief," Amanda cut in.  
  
"Quiet, I'm getting to that part." He paused to glare at Amanda a moment more, just to make himself feel better. "I wasn't just any thief, I was a very good thief. I had a nice setup going... the Crusades had taken away all the young, courageous, chivalrous, bloody annoying little nights to go be heroic in the south."  
  
"Leaving the rest to you."  
  
"Exactly." Duncan was wearing a very ironic smile. "Very noble of you."  
  
"The nobility went south, too," Methos snapped. "Anyway, I took advantage of a stretch of woods that lay on the road between one of the more prominent shires and London. The idea being that, when anyone in the area wanted to do any real business, he'd take his wallet and go to London. From there he could get to Rome or wherever else he may want to go."  
  
"If they knew you were in these woods, why not just go and get you?"  
  
Methos chuckled. "Ah, that's the best part. The woods were haunted. No one dared go so far as to lose sight of the edge of the woods, or venture far from the road when traveling through. Remember, all the brave ones were busy getting themselves hacked up to make a nice housepaint for the walls of Jerusalem."  
  
"Not big on that Crusades thing, were you?"  
  
"Don't get me started. So here I am, making a fairly good living fleecing the more cowardly of the countryside..."  
  
"I thought they'd be the smart ones, to stay behind."  
  
"I reserve the right to be fickle. Now, is there anything else you want to add? I'm getting to the good bit."  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
***  
  
Two  
  
Methos lounged on a branch, letting one leg dangle as he munched on an apple. It was getting late in the summer, the leaves were already starting to turn yellow. He'd have to find somewhere to sit out the winter soon. He had enough money to live well in London for a few months, but that was just a bad plan from the start... any number of formerly wealthy and very annoyed people might recognize him in a moment.  
  
Maybe Paris. It'd be a long trip, but they had warm beds to sleep in, and it'd been ages since he'd been wanted in France. His biggest danger would be the urge to start strangling courtiers before the snow melted. He sighed. Peasants made excellent drinking mates and superb hosts, but winters were still hard, especially with most of the men gone.  
  
He heard horses.  
  
Methos tossed the apple core into the woods and slipped down from branch to branch towards the sound, now distinctly that of a single horse.  
  
Then he felt the Buzz.  
  
"Ah, damn." He kept to the trees over the road, and drew his sword. He eyeballed his height above the ground, and decided he was out of sword range, even from horseback. No one would be able to reach him unless they were a gymnast, seven feet tall, or extremely motivated. And he was pretty sure no one hated him that much right now. A bag of gold here and there wasn't worth a thirty-foot drop to most folk. Besides, he knew these trees better than anyone, he could be a mile away in no time.  
  
Which is why he was back to lounging and swinging his feet, his sword in his lap, when a solitary woman rode into the clearing beneath him, still scanning around for a fix on the Buzz. "'Lo, miss. Lighten your load?"  
  
Her head and her swordpoint snapped up at the same time. But she was fast to judge the situation, and she smiled at him almost immediately, though she didn't lower her sword. "Wealth is more fashionable on a lady, don't you think?"  
  
This could be fun... Methos returned the smile. "Ah, but too much wealth becomes gaudy, and I couldn't allow your beauty to be marred by such things." He purposefully kept his sword laid casually across his lap, though she was within sword-reach of his legs.  
  
In barely the space of a moment, the woman went from her seat to stand on the back of her horse, leap up, somersault, and land neatly on the branch next to him. She kept her sword, too. Double damn. "This would be the point where you tell me my beauty must be marred, so men may not be blinded by the sight of me. Right?"  
  
Methos kept a running stream of expletives coursing through his brain. This was really not his day. "I never discuss a woman's looks when she's holding a sword to my throat." It was when she laughed that he snatched up his sword and swung it to crash into hers in one movement. He didn't really expect to disarm her, that would be far too lucky. But it gave him enough time to scamper further up out of sword range.  
  
Or it would have, if she hadn't kept doing that damned leaping thing. His knowledge of the woods around him was offset by her natural agility and keen balance. It was really very disconcerting. She should learn to be more polite, chasing after poor highwaymen just trying to make a buck.  
  
Finally he admitted the futility in trying to outrun her, and stood his ground grimly. "I suppose there's no chance we can talk about this?" By this point they were high above the forest floor - and with her balance, Methos was becoming skeptical of his chances of winning if they had it out up here.  
  
She scrambled to a halt, giving him as much space as she could on the narrow branch. Strangely enough, she seemed to think the question was funny. "Actually, I was hoping you'd say that. I was looking for you, before... well... never mind." Her sword disappeared under her riding cloak, and she extended a hand in its place. "I've heard about your work. I'd like to join you."  
  
Carefully ignoring his anxiety scarcely a moment before, Methos slung his sword over his shoulder and reached out with the other hand to lean on the trunk of the nearest tree. "Just like that."  
  
"What, you want a better demonstration?"  
  
"It gets better?" Against his good judgment, Methos was intrigued.  
  
In response, she smiled, and stepped off the branch.  
  
***  
  
"Damned if she didn't practically freefall the entire way down to the ground. We had to have been at least forty feet up. Never seen anything like it." Methos shook his head at Duncan in wonder.  
  
Amanda grimaced at the memory. "You never will again, either. I nearly killed myself with that stunt. Teach me to show off."  
  
"But you looked good."  
  
"I always do."  
  
***  
  
Methos called down from his perch, "Pretty good, but can you do it going up?"  
  
Amanda finished covertly checking for broken bones, and glared up at him. "There'd better be a starting price waiting for me when I get up there, or you're a dead man."  
  
Either the man was psychic or he had very good hearing, because Methos replied to her muttering with, "Tell you what. You have a hundred seconds to get up here. If you can do it in less than that, then whatever's extra is your percentage of the take."  
  
"So if I can reach you in ten seconds, I walk away with ninety percent of our profit."  
  
"Exactly." The point was, there weren't any trees in this particular clearing with branches low enough to jump and grab hold of. He'd work her to death at twenty percent for a while, and she'd reconsider and go forth in search of greener pastures. No problem.  
  
Amanda said, "Start counting," and ran into the woods. Methos obliged, settling down to wait.  
  
At exactly forty-two, she dropped onto his branch right in front of him.  
  
"How'd I do? I counted thirty-six." Amanda was breathing heavily, and wasn't rising from the crouch she'd fallen into, but she was smiling.  
  
"Forty-two."  
  
She considered. "Sixty percent?"  
  
Damn, damn, damn! Methos seethed. This was really not his day. But a deal was a deal, and he had to admit, a plan was already forming in his mind to take advantage of her speed. "Done." He extended a hand, both to shake and to help her to her feet.  
  
She took it gratefully. "I'm Amanda."  
  
"Robyn Hode. Pleased to meet you."  
  
***  
  
That was the point when Duncan burst out laughing. "Robin Hood!"  
  
"Robyn Hode."  
  
Poor Duncan was gasping for air. "Robin Hood! Oh, that's too perfect."  
  
Methos transferred his withering glare from Duncan to briefly rest on Amanda as well. He mouthed, "I hate you," before turning back to Duncan and enunciating clearly, "Row-bine Hoe-dee. Say it with me..."  
  
"You! Stole from the rich and gave to the poor!"  
  
"Not unless you count tipping well," Methos muttered sourly.  
  
"Your band of merry men?" Duncan managed to ask, drying his eyes.  
  
Amanda raised her hand. "Guilty."  
  
"All of them?"  
  
Methos was still feeling snarky. "Well, there had to be some use to her flitting about like Tarzan on speed," he snapped. "She could pretend to be several people at once, and any poor Jack with a wallet would think he was surrounded. Made them much more agreeable guests." He shrugged eloquently again. "I made up names for the different trees Amanda shook, just to keep the rumors consistent."  
  
Amanda crossed her arms in front of her and shot Methos a superior look before returning her gaze to Duncan. "The bottom line being that I did all the work, and Wonder Boy, here, got all the press."  
  
Methos stared back up at her, incredulous. "You make it sound like having a price on my head was a good thing. Besides, you did not have to do all the work, I was doing very well on my own before you came along."  
  
For the first time Amanda's beaming grin included Methos as well. "But together, we were better."  
  
"Hmmph." But the corners of his lips were turning up. "We didn't do too bad. That is, until Richard tried to come back with his damned army."  
  
"What happened?" Duncan was like a kid halfway through his favorite comic book, he couldn't put it down.  
  
Methos grimaced. "Richard, in his glorious timing, finally figured out that the Crusades might not have been the brightest idea he ever had after all. But you see, before that, his brother John had been happily secure in his kingship and was having a marvelous time doing whatever he pleased. Unfortunately, doing whatever he pleased meant he was making a career out of enraging noblemen."  
  
Amanda cut in with her own memory of the time. "John was king, knew it, and made sure everyone else knew it too, but he wasn't stupid. He knew he'd be out on the street the day after Richard set foot in England, if he wasn't already stretching his neck."  
  
Methos nodded and resumed. "So he set about placating the nobles with one hand, and throwing everything he could into keeping Richard out of England with the other."  
  
"The bottom line being, John suddenly came charging in to clean the countryside of vermin like us." Amanda turned back to Methos with a frown. "And of course, since Wonder Boy has the agility of a three-toed sloth, he had to go and get himself caught..."  
  
***  
  
Three  
  
The knowledge of his brother's continued survival, despite all he put in Richard's way, was taking its toll on King John. He had a new scar that ran along one cheek, nearly to the jawline. And he seemed to have adopted a permanent frown somewhere along the line, making a single smile in his presence seem awkward, even in the crowded throne room.  
  
His temperament had apparently gone the way of his looks as well, Methos decided as he was hauled before the king in chains, and thrown to the cobbled floor. He might have been able to roll to his feet, but that would defeat the point, and only cause them to get even more hands-on. He just tried to keep from breaking his jaw instead.  
  
John glared down at him, probably to strike fear into his heart or some such nonsense before giving his judgment. A couple courtiers raised their noses to look down on him, not having the natural advantage of actually being on a throne. A few turned away with a disgusted expression, as if they'd smelled something they'd rather not. They probably had reason; the king's dungeons were something less than minty-fresh.  
  
Yay. This is exactly what I enjoy doing in my free time... Methos got up on one knee and was busy rotating the shoulder he fell on when the king proclaimed, "Robyn Hode, you have been accused of highway robbery, and will know your fate."  
  
Give me some pig's guts and a few chicken bones, and I'll tell you your fate, too, ducky... Where on earth was Amanda? The truth was, he was worried John would sentence him to be cut to pieces and spread across the length of England. It was a local favorite right now, and with John pandering to the nobles for all he was worth, Methos was beginning to seriously wonder how he was going to get out of this.  
  
"You will be hanged and your head will be set on a pike in front of the gates to serve as a symbol that the king's laws are not mocked and his anger, not to be trifled with." Amanda... this would be your cue, dear. He was nervous at the news, but not completely panicking. It would be tricky to escape a hanging before they went for his head, especially in the middle of a city, but not impossible. Having help would be nice, though... If that girl leaves me for the crows, well, to hell with her sixty percent! She'll be lucky to leave with her head!  
  
"My lord, I must protest!" Took her long enough. The crowd toward the back of the throne room parted way to show Amanda, dressed the part of a lady. She minced her way forward the way a proper lady should, and kept her eyes at John's feet. Well, she was late, but at least she was suffering, too. Demureness fit Amanda about as well as her shoes. "My lady..."  
  
Amanda blushed prettily on cue. Methos began to be impressed. "Marian, your highness. This man is my husband."  
  
Methos choked. Your husband?!  
  
"Your husband, my lady?" John didn't seem to be taking it much better than he was, though Methos guessed he was more disappointed than anything else. Amanda nodded earnestly.  
  
"Yes, your majesty. My husband and I have lived in peace these long years, as I was only the younger daughter of a minor lord in the north."  
  
"Where, lady?" John appeared hesitant, torn between a lady's potential gratitude and several of his lords out for Robyn's blood.  
  
"Lochsley, your highness. My father and brother fought in the Crusades." Her eyes grew even more downcast. "They did not return."  
  
"This is outrageous!" cried one lord. "Lochsley had no daughters. Where has she been all these years?"  
  
"I was fostered elsewhere, your highness. I had returned to take up my father's holdings, only to find that these men," she pointed accusingly at the protesting lords, "already had plans to divide up my father's country for their own! When they learned of our arrival, they quickly conspired to have my husband captured while hunting in the woods and be put to the sword, to take our lands from under our very feet!" Her eyes remained strictly downcast, but you could still see a tear or two falling.  
  
Wow. Methos had seriously underestimated Amanda's acting skills. Not to mention planning... he was suddenly glad he'd kept quiet while he was in prison. He couldn't have said anything to jeopardize her story.  
  
One thing was for sure, she was definitely earning her sixty percent.  
  
John seemed to think so, too. Amanda's story was obviously getting to him, as his eyes flitted back and forth between her and the lords she accused, all conveniently from the same area. If there was anything John understood, it was power-grabs. Taking lands from a defenseless woman was a completely understandable maneuver.  
  
But on the other hand, it was exactly the behavior he was trying to distance himself from. There were other nobles present to think about - making enemies of a few would be an acceptable risk, if it meant guaranteeing the regard of the rest. It didn't help that the protests of those few were sounding more shrill by the moment.  
  
"M'lud, she's tellin' ya tha trooth!" A sour-faced old peasant woman took a step forward out of the crowd. Methos recognized her as the wife of an innkeeper on the forest's edge. It was all he could do to keep blinking. "Haer nursemaid, I wuz. Such a wee baebe..." She broke out in a truly frightening smile.  
  
John was starting to look convinced... or at least deciding that it was to his advantage to become convinced. Methos wondered what planets had collided this morning to make his luck so good. "And where are you from, my... er, lady?"  
  
"Lochslae, m'lud. Grew up in tha castle, I did, like m'mum a'fore me."  
  
"Aye, m'lud! Oi wass de loidi's butla theez long yeaz. Loik a fahtha Oi wass, afta de poo miss's oun fahtha wass off ta waur..." Another man, from a different tavern. Well, Methos owed him a round of beer, so that was at least a little understandable...  
  
One of the lords had had enough. "This is absolutely absurd! You can not actually be humoring this madness! Your highness, I demand that your decree be carried out!"  
  
"No, m'lord! I taught her letters as a child!"  
  
"I sneaked her candies from the kitchen!"  
  
"I brushed down her horse at night!"  
  
Pandemonium. The lords were shrieking and the peasants kept coming in droves, all backing up Amanda's claims. There was enough confusion for Amanda to help Methos to his feet. "Amanda, what the hell is all this?!?"  
  
She looked over her shoulder, and one scraggly-looking protester winked at her unobtrusively. She hid a grin that only Methos could see. "Don't blame me. I was going to come myself, but they'd heard rumors that you'd been captured." She shrugged lightly, still badly hiding a smile. "I guess they decided they liked you. They followed me here. Can we keep them?" She looked as if she was making a supreme effort not to start shaking with laughter.  
  
Methos was still floundering. "But why? Just because I don't steal from them doesn't give them any reason to care if I get strung up or not."  
  
Amanda rolled her eyes expressively. "Robyn, you really have no idea how outrageously you tip when you're drunk, do you?"  
  
"What?!" Methos exclaimed, then quickly switched tactics, as it looked like the ruckus was receding, and John was shouting to regain control of the room. "Never mind. What's this Lochsley dreck?"  
  
"It isn't dreck!" Amanda protested indignantly. "Every word is true. Except my being related, of course." She gave him a pointed look.  
  
"While some people are drinking their money away, I get caught up with the local gossip. I heard about these guys all wanting to take a slice out of Lochsley a couple months ago, and kept it in mind for a rainy day."  
  
"It was looking pretty drippy, I'd say..."  
  
Methos stopped mid-sentence, because John had finally gotten things quiet again, and he was making a good show of looking very perturbed. "Never have I been so shamed. In my own throne room, no less. And by my own subjects." The lords were looking far too smug... at least until they realized the king was glaring at them.  
  
A couple panicked. "But, my lord king..."  
  
Big mistake. Huge. "SILENCE!" Now he had his dander up, and John was getting a little pink in the face. "You will hear me, and obey."  
  
***  
  
"So, Amanda and I managed to 'inherit' Lochsley. Of course, after a few months of being cooped up in the castle, with oh-so-apologetic lords visiting to fawn every day," Methos gave a dramatic shudder, "I was going mad."  
  
"Married life didn't suit you, anyway, dear." Amanda smirked at him.  
  
"Hah! And you were just the picture-perfect wife, my lovely." Methos glanced at her with raised eyebrows. "Anyway, I did us both a favor and got myself killed off early. Amanda got to play princess and wield a little power of her own..."  
  
"Amanda had fun in those days," she added with a sigh of remembrance.  
  
"...and I went back to fleecing the nearby lords, this time making sure to stick to Lochsley land."  
  
Amanda cut in again. "So if and when he got caught, it was always by my men, who would let him go."  
  
"For a fee." Methos made a sour face at her.  
  
Amanda was wearing a wide smile. "Well, I had to maintain bribing expenses to keep them quiet about their dead lord being neither dead nor a lord. At least until enough time had passed that I had to get myself killed, too. Then we parted ways."  
  
Methos nodded decisively. "Yep, that's it, the whole story." He turned his measuring gaze to Duncan. "Now it's your turn."  
  
Duncan backpedaled fast. "Oh, no. It's late."  
  
"Don't be that way, Duncan. We told, now you have to. Fair's fair." Amanda crossed her arms in front of her.  
  
"No, I'm beat, and I'm going to bed," Duncan replied, waving them off and backing toward the bedroom half of the dojo.  
  
Methos just made a little shrug that unmistakably meant 'I'll nail you later' and went for his coat. After a moment of huffing at MacLeod, Amanda did the same.  
  
Duncan had the gall to look hurt. "You're not coming?"  
  
"No, Duncan," she snapped as she stalked to the elevator beside Methos and spun on one heel. "If you're so tired, you should go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow." She threw down the door with a slam.  
  
Methos lounged on one shoulder and waggled his fingers goodbye as the elevator went down.  
  
On their way out to Amanda's car, Methos shook his head, still incredulous. "I can't believe you made me tell. You're luckier than you deserve. I didn't give you the third degree."  
  
"Oh, no you don't." Amanda shook her head as she unlocked the passenger door. "You could have come back with the same kind of one-line answer I did, but you decided to go into orator-mode. You can't blame that on me."  
  
"Well, nevertheless, next time I'm making you tell the whole story, Cindereller."  
  
"You do, and I'm telling Duncan you were the prince."  
  
Methos' eyes narrowed as she started the engine. "You wouldn't dare."  
  
She smiled silkily. "Watch me."  
  
The two sped off into the night.  
  
"Was Robin Hood really the most embarrassing thing you ever did, Methos?"  
  
"Nah. Being portrayed by Kevin Costner, that's what took the prize."  
  
"It could have been worse. You were never a cartoon."  
  
"American accents, Amanda."  
  
"Little old ladies with fairy wings."  
  
"Hmm... you win." 


End file.
